


MOVING ON

by SupernaturallyEgocentric



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturallyEgocentric/pseuds/SupernaturallyEgocentric
Summary: All Bucky wants is a place to call his own. It's not happening today.
Kudos: 2





	MOVING ON

Bucky's downstairs neighbor was playing jacks at the bottom of the front stoop when he came home.

Stylishly clad in a ketchup-stained t-shirt and pink shorts, the bubble gum-chewing youngster sported a long blond braid with a sloppy bow tied at the end. Bare feet with painted toenails, a different color for each toe, completed the ensemble.

Bucky grinned at her. She reminded him so much of his sister, Becca. "Hey, kid."

"Hey, mister!" She blew out an expert bubble, then carefully sucked it back in. "You're late tonight!"

He nodded, looking up at the twilight sky. "You're out late, too," he pointed out.

"Mom made meatloaf." She made a face. "I hate meatloaf."

Bucky laughed. "Yeah? I love it."

"Yuck." She made a gagging noise. "Gross."

At the top of the stairs, the door to the old brownstone opened suddenly. A sloe-eyed brunette in cutoffs and a too-tight tank top came out and cast a suspicious look down at Bucky.

"Amy, get your butt up here," she said in a cigarette-roughened voice. "Dinner's been ready for half an hour."

"Okay, Mom!" The girl didn't sound the least bit upset by her mother's bad mood. Scooping up her jacks, she half-ran, half-skipped up the steps.

Bucky waited until the door closed behind them before he followed.

Inside, the foyer was quiet, except for the sound of a television blaring from the apartment opposite the front door. As he started up the stairs to his apartment, the television suddenly got a lot louder and the smell of meatloaf wafted out into the hallway when Amy opened her apartment door and waved at him wildly.

Chuckling, Bucky returned her wave and continued upstairs.

ΩΩΩ

Lying awake in bed later that night, Bucky couldn't stop thinking about the way Amy's mom had looked at him earlier. He didn't think she knew who he was. Most likely, she just thought he was paying too much attention to her daughter. He understood that and couldn't blame her. It was a lot more dangerous for kids nowadays than when he was young.

But being noticed was never a good thing. The woman's glare had served as a reminder that it was time for him to move on, and that realization had him a little down.

Sighing, he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, bedsprings squeaking noisily.

Damn it, he didn't want to leave. He was comfortable here. The squeaky bed, the unreliable radiator, the tiny bathroom and the even tinier shower that never stopped dripping, it was all he needed and more than he'd had in years. And it was his.

Also, Boston was only three hours away from New York, and Steve. Being this close to his best friend, his only friend, made breathing a little easier. He didn't want to give that up.

Feeling antsy, he switched on the bedside lamp, then leaned over and picked through the worn paperbacks littering the floor beside the bed.

There. _Captain America's Howling Commandos, _by Jeffrey Butterfield.__

__Brow furrowed slightly, he stared at the picture on the cover for a long minute, studying the faces of his old friends. He didn't remember any of them but Steve, not really. Even his own face looked like a stranger._ _

__Opening the book, Bucky thumbed slowly through the pages. He'd read it many times. A few of the stories had sparked memories, but mostly it read to him like an adventure novel. He kept re-reading it, though, hoping that something would catch his eye and trigger a new memory and he'd get back more of what he'd lost._ _

__A noise in the hall outside caught his attention, and he paused, listening._ _

__Someone knocked softly, hesitantly, on the door._ _

__Dropping the book, Bucky pulled his pistol out from under the pillow, eased up off the bed and padded silently to the door._ _

__Leaning his head close to the door, he listened to the sound of soft, frantic breathing. The knock came again, along with a whispered, "Mister?"_ _

__Amy._ _

__Bucky didn't speak. After a slight hesitation, he answered with a cautious scratch on the door and heard an answering gasp of relief._ _

__"Mister! Mister! You gotta go!" Her young voice was full of distress. "My mom figured out who you are, and she's calling the cops!" There was a slight catch in her voice. "I'm sorry, Mister."_ _

__Bucky heard a swallowed sob and then the patter of bare feet running back down the hallway toward the stairs._ _

__Well._ _

__Hell._ _

__It looked like the decision had been made for him._ _

__He crossed to the window and pushed aside the curtain to look out into the street. It was quiet, empty, except for a couple of teens walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street._ _

__That quiet would last for as long as it took them to scramble Swat._ _

__Or the Avengers._ _

__Bucky dressed quickly. He tucked his few personal belongings into his backpack - toothbrush, a few pieces of clothing, the old-fashioned straight razor he'd picked up in a pawnshop. His journal. He hesitated over the paperbacks as they took up a lot of space in the pack, but in the end, he decided to take them._ _

__Two minutes after Amy knocked on his door, Bucky pulled on his coat, slung the pack over his shoulder and went back to the window. He released the latch and started to push it open, then stopped, caught by a sudden and startling revelation._ _

__He didn't have to run._ _

__He could lie down on the floor with his hands behind his head and let them take him._ _

__Bucky let out a long, shaky breath, and his eyes drifted half-shut, imagining the peace that simply stopping would bring him. No more running. No more fighting. No more anything._ _

__He could do it._ _

__Hell, he probably should do it._ _

__Bucky let himself have almost a full minute of that imagined peace. Then he shook his head at himself, a wry half-smile on his face._ _

__Giving up was not an option. He'd never given up on anything, not once, not even when that Nazi creep had him on the operating table. Him and Steve were the same in that respect, that much he remembered. Both of them too damned stubborn for their own good._ _

__Besides, if he did give up, odds were he'd end up in the wrong hands. Hydra, or someone like them and he'd already had seventy years of that bullshit. Being under someone else's control, told what to do, where to go. Whom to kill. That was never happening again. Ever. He'd die first. By his own hand if he had to._ _

__With a last look at his little apartment, and a silent good-bye to Amy, Bucky opened the window and slipped out into the night._ _


End file.
